Once Upon A Time In The West
by JaganshiKenshin
Summary: The American West-object of myth and legend, story and song.  On a day filled with portent, a shadow lurks among the foothills.  Is this the perfect setting for Hiei to meet his maker?
1. West 1: Jockey Stomper

Disclaimer: Kenshin does not own the Yuu Yuu Hakusho characters (they are the property of Togashi Yoshihiro et al), and does not make any money from said characters. Don't sue.

What Kenshin **does** own, however, are all the original characters in this work. Any attempt to "borrow" these characters will be met with the katana, or worse.

The events in _Idiot Beloved_ take place shortly after the Dark Tournament; _Firebird Sweet_ directly follows that timeline. You might want to read those fics in order so that certain elements of character development makes sense.

This particular story-the second part of the Cowboy Trilogy-takes place right after _A Cowboy's Work Is Never Done,_ in the setting of the American Southwest.

Title: Once Upon A Time In The West (1: Jockey Stomper)

Author: JaganshiKenshin

Genre: Action/Adventure, General

Rating: K+/PG-13

Summary: Horses aren't like cars, and Hiei wants nothing to do with them. But both he and the horse sense youki, and that's when trouble starts.

A/N: As always, thank you for reading this, and I appreciate your reviews!

"His name is WHAT?"

Once Upon A Time In The West (1: Jockey Stomper)

by

Kenshin

On this fine clear day late in September, a savory tang of burning hardwood and roasting animal flesh was just beginning to lace the air. Hiei took a deep, appreciative breath-but then, oddly, almost gagged.

Ronni Spencer noticed. "Nothing like a good gallop to work up an appetite," she quipped.

"Not on a horse," muttered Hiei, eyeing the animal in question.

"There's another way?" asked Shayla Kidd.

The horse, copper brown with black stockings, mane and tail, eyed Hiei back. Ronni kept correcting him (with an air of long-suffering) that it was not brown but a color known as 'bay.'

Ronni and Shayla blocked Hiei's escape from the Lazy-S Ranch paddock. The horse, nearer to him than he would like, blocked the other side. Hiei was trapped.

Both girls wore jeans and calico cowgirl shirts, but there the resemblance ended; friends since childhood, they were a study in contrasts. Ronni Spencer, whose parents owned the Lazy-S, was almost as tall as Kurama, lanky and dark, with mile-a-minute speech; Shayla Kidd, just coming up to Hiei's eyebrows, curvaceous, with bonfire hair and eyes of gray, and nearly as laconic as a real cowboy.

"I can think of several ways," Hiei muttered, "and they all involve a sword."

"They always do." Shayla Kidd shook her head, but her eyes were dancing.

"Ch." The katana was on him now, along with black jeans and a sweatshirt from which he had sawed the sleeves with that very weapon. He and Shay-san had just been in California, where Hiei had starred in a beer commercial and run into a blast from his past. He had no further wish for such 'fun.'

Some thirty feet to the left of the paddock, Michael, looking like Hiei in miniature, watched the fire pit. Silent and intense from his perch on a redwood picnic table, he ignored Cecilia, his twin. She sat beside him, Shay-san in miniature, right down to the enormous gray eyes.

Ronni's mother Helen announced it was time to make the side dishes. CeeCee hopped down from the table and followed her into the house like a duckling. Hiei felt a curious sense of relief. Wasn't sure why. Just didn't want her outdoors.

Ronni had probably interited her height from her father, but Robert Spencer's habitual slouch reduced his stature. He remained with the rest of the men, directing the barbecue.

Nothing but a normal everyday family gathering, but Hiei felt tense out of all proportion to the event.

The horse raised its head, striving to gaze at the flatlands and foothills beyond the paddock. Hiei edged away.

"Pretend it's a kitty." Shay-san tugged smartly at the strap circling the horse's belly, and if it hadn't been tied by its reins to a split-rail fence near the barn, it might have bolted then and there. "You like cats."

"I _tolerate_ cats." Not exactly true. The idiot's favorite cat, Eikichi, had once tried to warn Hiei that youkai had invaded the Kuwabara home, and he was not utterly without gratitude. But the horse's proximity made him churlish. Anyhow there was no way of mistaking this towering beast for a cat.

The horse tossed its head, snorting, as though introducing itself.

"Meet Jockey Stomper." Shay-san completed the introduction, unlooping the reins and handing them to Ronni.

"Jockey Stomper used to race at Prescott Downs." Ronni took the reins while Shayla Kidd shortened the stirrups.

"But for some reason he was retired."

_Aaand they're off,_ thought Hiei, flicking a glance at the house, as though the barbecue might jump up and run away without his scrutiny.

"Maybe his owners got sick of the racing biz," said Ronni.

"Or maybe they ditched him because he lived up to his name," said Shay-san.

"Anyway he's all yours." Ronni held out the reins.

_So that's why they dragged me to the paddock. And why only one horse is saddled._

Jockey Stomper rolled a white eye at Hiei. Hiei knew very little about horses but the white eye was not a good sign.

"I saddled up Jockey Stomper instead of one of the bomb-proof ponies." Ronni waggled the reins. "It's a measure of my respect for you."

Ronni's giggle affected Hiei like nails on a chalkboard. What was wrong with him?

"They gelded him to calm him down," confided Shay-san.

"But it only made him meaner," added Ronni.

_That would make me meaner too._ Why he remained standing too close to a dangerous animal escaped him at the moment. He had no intention of riding.

Jockey Stomper gave a guttural snort that sounded like a growl. A white foam had appeared at the sides of his neck.

"Whoa, boy." Shay-san patted the horse's foamy neck, but he jerked his head, jangling his headgear.

"Easy!" Ronni took a firmer hold on the reins.

"He's lathering like dish soap." Shay-san puckered her brow. "Don't know what's wrong with him today."

"Mutual dislike?" suggested Hiei. Maybe the horse was picking up on his jittery mood. Maybe vice versa.

"Probably thirsting for jockey blood," said Shay-san.

"And looking for the nearest jockey," Ronni added.

"Which is not me," Hiei said, just in time for both girls to turn and drill him with twin laserbeam gazes and ivory grins.

"Why not?" Ronni wanted to know.

"Ch. And I just got done convincing everyone I'm only a fake cowboy."

"Cowboys and jockeys are two completely different breeds," said Ronni. "You haven't convinced us you're not a jockey. You have the size and strength. I mean," she added hastily, "not that I'm saying you're undersized or anything like that."

Hiei tuned out Ronni's chatter. The horse stank, or maybe it was the paddock and barn. A combination of manure and sweat, sharp and ammoniac. It nauseated him.

He wasn't sure what was wrong. This was not California. No sound stages, no recording studios, no costume fittings, no monster from his past trying to kill him.

The Spencers kept a few saddle animals on their cactus 'ranch,' so the equine odor was familiar to Hiei. He could only assume the horse felt the same way about him, for he had been training with his katana in the adjacent pasture, and had worked up quite a lather himself.

_If one of these crazy girls want to climb on the back of a mankiller, fine. I'm headed for the pit and a six-pack._

Since the men had just started cooking, it would take long, beer-soaked hours on a slow oak fire before the spice-rubbed slab of brisket was ready to eat.

Beer-soaked hours sounded good. Hiei reached the fence so he could escape before someone stuffed him in the saddle.

He never made it.

A sharp pain that had nothing to do with the horse's proximity pierced his temple. Youki!

He turned in the direction of the pain. No youkai to be seen. The aura was unfamiliar to him, but powerful.

The horse squealed and backed away.

"Hey, you, calm down." Ronni grasped the reins close to the horse's head. "He must think he's on the track again or something. I think he always hated going into the gates."

The horse pinned back his ears and bared his long yellowish teeth. Ronni spoke soothing words to him, but he crab-stepped, muscles rippling beneath his copper skin.

Hiei made a move without first knowing why. Call it instinct. He shoved Ronni out of the way just as Jockey Stomper yanked free, reared, thrashing his forelegs.

Ronni fell to the side; flint-hard hooves struck Hiei's right shoulder instead of the girl's head. There was an explosion of searing pain. Then his arm went numb.

But with a shrill, almost-human scream of fear, Jockey Stomper reared again. He spun, freeing himself, flinging up dirt. Trailing his reins, he thundered across the paddock.

Ronni scrambled to her feet. "Stop him!"

Shayla Kidd was already running in the horse's direction, but Hiei pulled her back.

Shay-san had a good enough sixth sense. Their glances crossed. Her eyes said, 'Here we go again.' She had felt the aura, too.

With a soaring leap, Jockey Stomper cleared the paddock fence, then galloped off toward the foothills.

Ronni started after the horse, but Hiei stepped in front of her. "Let him go."

"You don't understand!" Frustration and urgency colored Ronni's voice. "He's still bridled!"

Hiei couldn't see her point. "So?"

"So he could catch a leg in the reins and break it or-"

"Forget the horse." Hiei jerked his head at the people on the patio and addressed both girls. "Trouble's coming. Get everyone inside and keep them there. Down on the ground floor. Use whatever means necessary."

White around the nostrils, Shay-san nodded.

Ronni gazed after the retreating horse, but made no further attempt to fetch him. She was one of the select few to know what Hiei was. On his first mission to America, when he had met Shayla Kidd, he had saved Ronni from a powerful youkai. If he said move, she'd ask how far and how fast.

The kids, young as they were, also knew what their father was. Knew the dangers, Would obey their mother. Would be safe.

The rest of the family, too, as long as they stayed inside while Hiei dealt with the threat.

As for Jockey Stomper, he was disappearing across the flatlands in a cloud of dust.

"Too bad he never showed that kind of speed on the track," said Shay-san.

Ronni sighed. "And to think he missed out on a second career as a hunter-jumper."

"You heard the man," said Shay-san. "Time to get everyone below decks." And with that, both girls left the paddock and headed for the patio.

Hiei's sword arm was useless now. But his sword was still at his back, and he had wielded it left-handed before. After meeting up with Reiraku, he was not so cavalier about leaving it behind.

He swept the horizon. No monster skulking toward them, only the bleak flatlands. Further in the distance, the foothills were shrouded gray and green like a sleeping dragon,.

Ignoring his injured arm, Hiei vaulted the paddock fence and set off in the direction of the youki.

(To be continued: Beware of shadows!)

-30-


	2. West 2: Head For The Hills

Please read Disclaimer in Prelude/Chapter One.

Title: Once Upon A Time In The West (2: Head For The Hills)

Author: JaganshiKenshin

Genre: Action/Adventure

Rating: PG-13/K+

Summary: What's that rumble beneath the earth? Hiei tries to 'head 'em off at the pass.'

A/N: Hiei refers here to earlier incidents that took place in _Idiot Beloved_ and _Firebird Sweet._ Accompanying character sketches, if any, can be viewed on my blogspot.

Also: More than one riderless horse has 'won' a race, but as far as I know, only one-the gray gelding, Gander, in 2002-trotted himself to the winner's circle afterward. As of this writing, Gander is enjoying his well-deserved retirement.

A sunbleached skeleton provides a fatal clue.

Once Upon A Time In The West (2: Head For The Hills)

by

Kenshin

The San Xavier Mission ('The White Dove of the Desert') just south of Tucson, is the oldest European structure in Arizona, dating from 1692. The state was further developed by copper mining and cattle raising in the late 1800s.

In the middle of the state, Prescott Valley is bordered by the Mingus Mountains to the north and the Bradshaw to the south. When Hiei paused to get his bearings, the Mingus loomed ahead, still shrouded like a dragon asleep.

Glancing back, he could also make out both paddock and patio, now empty. While he'd traveled a couple of miles, Shayla Kidd had done her job, gotten everyone safely below decks.

Funny, that nautical image. They were far from any sea, locked in desert country.

This could have been the old West of myth and legend, the landscape alien yet familiar, seen countless times in classic movies. Cottonwood trees grew small and sparse. A breeze carried smells of evergreen and shale and silica and, just barely, the scent of barbecue.

_Hungry again-so soon after breakfast?_ Brushing aside his appetite, Hiei went on, the flat open land making him feel exposed and vulnerable to attack from all sides.

The creature Hiei had sensed was not El Chupacabra. That monster was little more than an animal attached to an appetite, and the unknown aura that drew Hiei was far too powerful to belong to such a low-class youkai.

As a perfumier educates his nose, as a wine-taster his palate, so had Hiei learned to distinguish one aura from another with increasing finesse, even with the desert air so dry it stung his nostrils. This was something never before encountered.

Was that thunder just now? The sky was not clouded over, though a heaviness hung in the air, an invisible presence.

_Why does trouble always follow me?_

Moreover, Hiei was beginning to see those inevitable battles as interruptions in his life, rather than its focus.

He was still in the midst of sorting himself out, discovering who he was on earth.

_I've changed a little._

That change, begun with Urameshi Yuusuke, had accelerated with Hiei's first mission to the USA, the one that led to his encounter with White Sands Serpent.

Even Toguro the Younger, with all his sinister might, had only inspired in Hiei an eagerness to do battle. White Sands Serpent, alone of all his foes, had terrified him.

The youki flickered, faded, then grew stronger.

_This thing interrupted the barbecue._ On foot, with a bad arm, he was too slow. He could have grabbed a Jeep but the engine noise would kill his hearing, dampen his other senses. Maybe that was why people rode horses. Forget it. The horse would pitch him and break his neck before they were two steps from the paddock.

His sword arm wasn't broken. Broken bones caused pain, but the arm hung without feeling, marked only by a red welt on his shoulder.

_Better my arm than that girl's head._

So, with katana at his back-the adult version of running with scissors-Hiei loped doggedly toward the youki, shale crunching underfoot, lips gritty with sand, tasting of salt.

White Sands Serpent. Human in appearance, a man with sunglasses and pale skin and flowing white hair which just happened to occasionally become live, venomous snakes.

_Why think of him now?_ Perhaps because the Serpent was inextricably linked in his mind with the southwest, the ranch, with meeting Shayla Kidd.

_Could the Serpent have an ally who bore a grudge across worlds and years?_

But Prescott Valley wasn't the Serpent's territory. This was a land for cattle, for the occasional horse ranch. The Spencers bucked the trend to raise boutique cactus; each little clay pot 'branded' with the Lazy-S as a reminder of their industry and cleverness.

Ronni's parents knew only that, seven years ago, Hiei had rescued their daughter from a 'bad man.' Just how bad-or how inhuman-they might never know.

That Ronni was being held by a youkai who gorged on her unique spirit, they would never guess. That he was a youkai with a mansion that existed simultaneously in both the human and demon planes, and in neither place at all, they could surely never imagine in their wildest nightmares.

Strong as he was, ruthless as he was, White Sands Serpent had not been able to break Ronni. She had resisted till the end.

And Ronni was her old self again.

The Spencers were a good family, a happy family. When Hiei was around them, he could believe that benevolence was real.

Hiei wasn't the only one. Shayla Kidd had learned benevolence from them as well.

_Shay-san. Whatever this youkai is, she's my last line of defense, with that pistol of hers and its bullets augmented with Holy Salt, in case her Spellcasting proves insufficient. She would never let anything happen to the twins._

Funny how he was not demonstrative toward them in public. Or not so funny. He would protect them at the cost of his life. No sense in broadcasting that to an often-hostile world.

This country, he knew, housed many youkai. Then there were the more mundane dangers of coyote, cougar, scorpion, rattlesnake, and Gila Monster.

With his luck he'd run into them all.

Entertaining black thoughts about being slashed, stabbed, and poisoned, Hiei went over his countermeasures. Fists first, sword second, Dragon a distant third. He had acquired some new armaments. Tenchi no Hi-the Flame of Heaven and Earth-was one step up from Sword of the Archangel.

He slipped his left hand awkwardly into his right pocket, seeking the small plastic vial of Holy Water. After the Downfall incident, he would never again leave it behind.

As a concealed weapon, Holy Water had the advantage of not setting off metal detectors. But a sword came in handy for all sorts of things: practicing forms, dismembering lesser foes, makeshift barbecue spit.

In the distance, a shadow trickled down the foothills like ink on paper. Around him rose a faint rumble, as of thunder.

Hating horses more than ever and longing for a beer, Hiei's breathing came heavy. The air seemed thick, as though preparing for a freak storm, but the sky was a cerulean blue like glazed tile. The sun beat down upon his head.

The gathering miasma represented a youki so strange and powerful Hiei could only guess at its origin.

_The creature must be huge. Or not. Size doesn't always correspond with power. _

_And I'm all there is out here, the law, the defender. My job whether I like it or not._

Maybe he liked it a little bit. Maybe the cowboy mantle suited him after all. He was comfortable in solitude, but had learned to tolerate proximity.

And he was wet with nerves.

_Can't be. Cowboys are nerveless, right? Lone gunman stalks off to meet his doom. Lone swordsman,_ he corrected.

But this time, not the semi-comic rodeo that was his encounter with Reiraku, one of the thieves who had raised him. This was more sinister, Lee Van Cleef squinting into the killer's face. Behold the pale horse.

No horse in sight. Jockey Stomper long gone.

Now almost at the foothills, Hiei found himself wondering about the horse. Horses were creatures of habit. Once, as Shayla Kidd told him, a racehorse named Gosling unseated his rider at the start of the Tuxedo Stakes. Yet out of habit, he had rated himself through the backstretch and made his move in the homestretch, overtaking the other horses to come in first.

Though a riderless horse is disqualified in terms of betting and purse money, those regulations did not stop Gosling, who trotted himself back to the winner's circle, serenely awaiting his garland of roses.

Habit was hard to break for any creature.

Something white gleamed, caught Hiei's eye.

Nestled against the foothills, almost as though using them for a gravestone, pooled by a shadow the color of plum-dark ink, was the skeleton of a longhorn bull.

Anything could have eaten it. Coyote, El Chupacabra, hungry ranchers in need of a light snack.

Hiei stopped. This was the crossroads, the threshold, the verge of the battlefield.

The breeze died, as if in fear of what lay ahead. Sounds were muffled. No rustle of plants, no whirring of bird wings. A profound sense of the un-natural enfolded the land.

"It's gonna kill you."

"What?" Hiei whipped his head around.

A childlike voice, speaking English, had come from his right. Clinging to the cactus was a jaki.

Small demons, jaki, unlike Makai insects, are not invisible. But humans who do catch a rare glimpse of one pass it off as a squirrel or a lizard.

Used as messenger, spies, house servants, their ki is so insignificant it is easy to miss their presence-precisely the qualities that enable them to function as spies.

Some of them have sufficient intelligence to make _good_ spies. Back home, a jaki named Squirrel had alerted Hiei to the movements of an enemy, which had probably saved the lives of the then-infant Michael and Cecilia.

Hiei looked upon the species with amusement, even affection, and not only for that reason. They were loners, scrabbling for a meager living, just as he once had.

This particular jaki resembled a bush baby with its round head and enormous staring eyes the same color as its plush fur. It clung to a cactus, blending in well with that background. It spoke again, its piping voice in stark contrast with its words: "It's gonna kill you. Then kill everyone."

"It? Who?"

"Can't stay here. It'll get me." It trembled in terror.

"What are you talking about? Get you? How-"

"Tried to warn you," it quavered, then, with a flick that would have done Hiei proud, it vanished.

_It's gonna kill you. Then everyone._

The vast encirclement of desert underscored his solitude.

A rumble shook the ground. Hiei glanced up again. No gathering storm. Only hard clear sky, yet-

The miasma. The evil aura. That shadow, the one that had been underneath the skeletal longhorn-

-was moving.

With the swiftness of an ink blot soaking into rice paper, the shadow flowed toward Hiei. While the jaki had claimed his attention, it had come up on him unheeded.

Like a bird mesmerized by the serpent that will take its life, Hiei watched the shadow pool around his feet.

This was the source of the youki? This blot upon the sand? Now the shadow had grown to some ten feet in diameter.

Hiei tried to flick away as the jaki had done. But the nerveless arm spoiled his balance and he staggered sideways.

Then, his legs began to quiver. As though he were too weak to stand.

Even as he had known to push Ronni out of the way of the horse's murderous hooves, Hiei knew he had to escape this shadow. He gathered his strength for another leap.

No good. He could not move.

A voice emanated, like lava bubbling from the core of the earth: "Long have I waited for this moment!"

He went for his sword with his left hand, but before he could draw, an unseen force tugged at him. Arms outflung in a desperate attempt to keep his balance, Hiei toppled backward. Landed hard, the katana digging into his flesh.

_A trap! And I fell for it-literally._ Hiei had been expecting a powerful ally of White Sands Serpent-not some sticky-flytrap of a shadow.

"How good it is to find such a treasure!" As before, the voice came from the ground, deep and thick.

_This thing can talk. It has a mind. It's no El Chupacabra._

Hiei considered his options.

_How's it keeping me pinned? Magnetism? This thing can manipulate a force that pulls at the metal of my sword? But what about that dead longhorn? No metal on a bull._

And yet Hiei felt as though a mammoth, invisible slab of stone pressed him flat to the ground.

_I'm a walking arsenal: fists, flame, Dragon, Jagan, and Def Con 5. But how can I fight if I can't move?_

Maybe the Black Dragon. Lying in wait on his right arm, warded now by a sleek black gauntlet of Kurama's design, rather than the old, complicated wraps and spells.

The Dragon, formidable weapon though it was, weakened him to the point that he must sleep following its use.

The Dragon could be manipulated to an extent. Sent to harrow an enemy, as he had done with Bui.

But the Dragon was far from a precision instrument. If Hiei was not at full strength, it could turn on him and kill him, while leaving the enemy alive. _Scratch the Dragon._

Through the use of his Jagan, he could communicate to Shayla Kidd his predicament, and she would come riding like wildfire.

Very likely, her powers as a Spellcaster could subdue the monster. She could freeze it in its tracks, force it to release him, possibly also force it to self-destruct.

But on the razor-thin chance that she could not-

No way in heaven or earth would he put her in danger.

He struggled to rise again, found he had strength to breathe, but nothing beyond that.

The Jagan had other powers. Hiei had developed the Jagan Wave, a blast of psychic power like an invisible fire hose. But it needed a target. If aimed at a rock, the resulting backlash might blast him free of the shadow. Or its force, struggling against that of the shadow monster's, might rip him apart.

No target but sky. And he could barely move his head.

The shadow monster emitted a rumble somewhat like a laugh. "Try, little fool, by all means try."

The sand beneath Hiei felt oddly chill. The sky beat down waves of heat.

"Long have I sought this moment. And you-this is a red-letter day for you."

"The hell it is," Hiei growled.

"Pity. You have no idea what you are up against."

Hiei did not know how, but the thing was probing him. Assessing him. Could the Jagan itself be giving it access to his thoughts? As a two-way street, the Jagan's psychic abilities worked well with Shayla Kidd but no one else. This shadowy enemy might be able to tune into his wavelength as well.

Sometimes able to read the thoughts of others, Hiei nevertheless found it unpleasant. But if he could probe the creature, discover its motives, its weaponry, its weakness-

He tried. Nothing. His Jagan was a one-way street, the vulnerability all his.

"A sword," mused the monster. "A sword, against _me?_"

It laughed again. Its voice conjured for Hiei the image of a substance thick and black, bubbling beneath the surface like oil. But unlike oil, this element brought no riches. It was alive-and malevolent.

_How does this bastard know I have a sword? No eyes, no ears, nothing but shadow on sand. What does it use for senses?_

"A sword," it scoffed, "Mere metal."

Hiei got the odd impression that it was _tasting_ him, savoring, licking its lips. The sensation repulsed him. For the first time he knew how Ronni must have felt as the Serpent fed upon her spirit.

For no reason that made sense, Hiei was tired. Wanted to close his eyes. He knew that would be fatal.

But the mention of 'mere metal'-was the monster capable of using magnetism? Was that how it pinned him flat to his back?

"How?" The question sprang from Hiei's lips.

The reply was more laughter. "That is not for the likes of you to know."

Hiei struggled to reach the sword, but it was as though his hand was shackled to the ground. Muscles and ligaments stretched to the breaking point. "Who _are_ you?"

"I am The Almighty," it rumbled. "The Supreme being. And I've come for your soul."

(To be continued: Is Hiei's day of reckoning at hand?)

-30-


	3. West 3: Lightning Strikes

Please read Disclaimer in Prelude/Chapter One.

Title: Once Upon A Time In The West (3: Lightning Strikes)

Author: JaganshiKenshin

Genre: Action/Adventure

Rating: PG-13/K+

Summary: Hiei's strength is rapidly being sapped by something whose form is nothing more than shadow.

A/N: _Codename: Moron_ introduced the Jagan Wave. As canon I use both the American manga and the YYH anime sub. Please review!

Once Upon A Time In The West (3: Lighting Strikes)

by

Kenshin

Is it true? Has Hiei met his maker?

_My SOUL?_

Held in place by an unseen power, Hiei lay flat on his back, unable to rise, the katana digging into his flesh.

_It wants my soul?_

The creature made no further remarks. The searing sun above and the icy sand below were the only other players, and they weren't talking.

_Well? Am I scared to meet my maker? Possibly. Probably. I'll have a lot to answer for. Why couldn't it be Urameshi, or Kurama, or even the idiot facing this thing? Why me? And yet-_

"Supreme Being my ass."

"Such blasphemy!" rumbled his captor. "You dare?"

Hiei fell silent. If this thing was what it claimed to be, then he was mouthing off to the Almighty.

If not-"You reek of youki," Hiei replied. "And if you're what you claim, then you speak all languages."

"You who are about to die waste your last moments on-"

"Say something in Japanese."

"That would be too easy." The creature laughed again, that oily, bubbling sound emanating from the earth.

Until now, Hiei had merely been pinned into place. But that same unseen force crushed him suddenly, painfully into the ground, wrenching from him a startled cry.

The shadow laughed. "If it's parlor tricks you're after-how did you like that one?"

At this rate, Hiei's body would turn to pulp.

"You imagine it is your body I am after?" The crushing eased. Hiei could breathe again. "True, I have recently fed."

_The horse? Didn't see it, could've easily missed a pile of horse bones. Didn't like it much, but it didn't deserve this._

"And now you think I wish to consume your flesh? No, nothing so crude as that."

_What then?_

"Come now. You have a certain pride of intellect. I have announced my intent, all but printed it up on a billboard. And still you cannot guess? You're not fit for much, are you?"

_That longhorn. The shadow monster didn't 'eat' it. The stripped bones were from natural scavengers, coyotes, insects._

What the monster had stripped was its life force.

_It wants my soul. It was telling the truth._

"But of course," chuckled the Soultaker. "You pride yourself on speed, yet how slow you were to grasp this."

In the hard-glazed sky, a buzzard circled, its wings making a black cross. Hiei shut his eyes.

_A Soul Eater? Like that walking stomach Gouki?_

"Gouki?" chuckled the monster. "You think yourself above him, but in reality you are exactly the same. Greedy. Filled with thoughts of food."

_It knew that much? How?_

"All your struggles," sighed the creature. "Yet you can't get free. All your powers, useless. Trapped like a mere animal. How it must gall you."

Yes. Hiei despised not being able to move. _But it can't move either,_ he realized. At least not until it fed. How long had it been languishing in the foothills?

_Like a spider, waiting for prey to walk into its web. But a spider isn't sentient, isn't evil._

"Evil?" rumbled the shadow. "Who's to say what's evil? Your appetites are no loftier than mine."

_So I'm another appetite to feed on, food becoming food, an endless chain of gluttony and rot?_

Hiei opened his eyes again. His words belied his unease. "You're a belly with a mouth. No better than Gouki."

"Easy to look down on others, isn't it? But not when you're flat on your back. You resemble him more than you think."

_I'ts right... I was thinking about food..._

"And your strength can't save you."

Hiei said, "You're nothing. Just a shadow in the sand."

"Nothing, you say? You freely insult me, yet I will show mercy. You may go."

And with that, the force pinning Hiei vanished. For a moment, he did not believe it; then he staggered to his feet and lurched forward.

Laughing, his captor yanked him back to the ground again, ejected him, bounced him up and down until he was dizzy. When it was over, Hiei lay as before, on his back-bruised, battered, considerably the worse for wear.

Gravity had always been Hiei's friend. He could use his speed against heavier opponents, let the ground beat them up when they lunged for him and he wasn't there.

Now the tables had turned.

"Are you certain I'm not God? I hold your life in my hand."

_Dammit!_ In battle, Hiei was used to reading an enemy's body language, anticipating the opponent's moves. _How can I read what I can't see?_

Never had he been in such a frustrating fight. All his advantages were gone: speed, strength, tactics, skill, ferocity. He might very well die here.

"Since you can't hide your thoughts, I will give you something in return. I'm not boasting when I reveal that those of my kind are all in touch. We even inhabit the seas. And this is our moment."

_The Bermuda Triangle,_ Hiei thought. _Where ships vanish, planes disappear. A supermarket of souls._ He spoke through clenched teeth. "I know a guy who can take your soul."

The monster's surprise was evident. "You have encountered another of my kind and lived?"

"Don't insult Kaitou. He's nothing like you."

"It is you who know nothing!"

_Well, well. It has a temper._

"I really am a god when you think of it. With all your might and battle skills, you're helpless before me. Our day is at hand thanks to you." Soultaker must have enjoyed the sound of its own voice, elaborating how it would, with others of its kind, grow bigger, stronger, faster, conquer the earth.

Hiei listened with growing dismay. _And when we the living are gone, they will turn on each other, until nothing remains._

_Why me? _

_But it doesn't know everything. Didn't know who Kaitou was just now. Thought I meant another of its kind._

"And you, poor little creature-for a high-level monster, you're not very bright. But nourishing. Extremely nourishing. Very interesting flavor: intense, dark, almost too stringent."

_Repulsive creep._

"I really should congratulate myself on not gulping you down at once. I admire my own self-control."

Judging by Hiei's weakness, its self-control was illusory.

"But," Soultaker continued, "I am willing to forgive your stupidity, because you have provided the means for my escape. Your life force-your soul, if you will-shall give me a greater strength than I've ever tasted before."

In Soultaker's enthusiasm, its invisible force reached out and pulled Hiei an inch closer to its icy core. If this pressure kept up, he would be unable to breathe.

That must be how Soultaker operated, with a one-two punch. First, like a constricting snake, but using gravity to suffocate, rather than the muscled coils of a python or boa. One to render the victim helpless, an attack of gravity. The other-

Gobbling the soul. Hiei shuddered. Different from the crushing gravity, this sensation was similar to elevator-drop dizziness, an overwhelming urge for sleep-but one from which he would never wake.

The Soultaker went on about Hiei's idiocy. Hiei was inclined to agree. He should have run from the shadow, should never have let it take him like a mere bird paralyzed by a snake. It really was White Sands Serpent's brother. White Sands Serpent fed on Ronni's life force. This monster fed on souls.

_If I could reach my sword!-_

"Live by the sword," mocked Soultaker, "die by the sword."

Hiei always knew that one day he would die in battle. But to die now without defeating the enemy, without even putting up a fight-die, in fact, giving the enemy strength-

The shadow was growing bigger, its boundaries spreading. Sun beat on Hiei's face, parched his throat. Cold blue sand clashed with the heat, created a weather front in his body, a borderline though which his soul was being siphoned.

_Move! Anything!_

Hampered by his useless right arm, Hiei arched his body, struggling to press shoulders and feet into the ground and lift his torso in a wrestler's bridge. But it was as though iron bands shackled him to the ground. Muscles, ligaments, bones, found their limits, threatened to snap.

Hiei lay flat, exhausted. _What now?_

Though he had to grit his teeth against the pain, Hiei moved his left hand. It felt like he was dragging a boulder. In his pocket was the vial of Holy Water.

Virtually alone among demonkind, Hiei could withstand its effects. The sky darkened to slate as he worked his left hand into his right pocket and curled his fingers around the small, slippery plastic tube.

Rotated it so the spray head faced the ground. Pressed its plunger. Heard the hiss of water rushing to greet the shadow.

The ground rumbled. Soultaker cried out in pain.

Encouraged, Hiei pressed the plunger again and again, emptying its contents. It was working! The Holy Water broke the hold of gravity, halted the feeding.

"Ahh!" cried the youkai. "It burns, it burns!"

_Good._ On his back, writhing like a worm, Hiei hitched along the dirt, dragging himself free of the shadow.

"Oh, no." Soultaker's voice was thick with malice. "Me-fall to just this? From this weak little trickle? I admit it stung, it startled. But not strong enough to stop me."

The empty vial slipped from Hiei's fingers. He had only managed to move a few inches.

"You thought that bit of trickery would defeat me?"

What felt like a two-ton slab of granite slammed Hiei down again, crushing the breath from his lungs.

Soultaker was a commonplace youkai, of that Hiei was now certain. Its reaction to Holy Water had proved as much. For youkai are not only spirits, not like the angels, nor their fallen counterpoints.

This meant Soultaker had a physical form. Even if Hiei could not discern its true nature, whether mere surface shadow or iceberg-deep, it could be killed.

"You?" Rumbled Soultaker. "You, destroy me? Fool. You're out of time, out of options. And in exchange for your insolence, I will make you beg for death."

_Is this my hour of reckoning?_

Even as part of a team, Hiei had trouble relying on others. Yet he could use his last strength to warn Shayla Kidd. She was well capable of getting the others away from the house, returning with a veritable army: Koenma, The Agency, Father Brian.

"Capable? Against me?"

_Damned mind-reader..._

"You have given me the incentive to move like lightning itself, for a banquet awaits."

_Banquet?_

Soultaker almost giggled. "Those you cherish will be dead before the sun sets."

_What the-?_

"I can see it in your mind: the ranch, the people. A veritable buffet. All those souls."

Hiei's thoughts alone then should have killed it. With a growing sense of terror, he pictured Shayla Kidd, Michael and Cecilia, Ronni and her family. Trusting his word, they were all in the house, but that would not save them.

"Shall I tell you how I will accomplish this?" Soultaker began to describe its plans to creep in beneath the house and suck the life from everyone there. Thus strengthened, it would range out to join forces with others of its kind. "You might as well precede those people. I'm doing you a great kindness after all-you will be spared their futile cries for help. Give up now! Your end will only be more painful the longer you delay."

_Every moment is extra time to think, to plan._

_Kurama's tactics. Urameshi's zeal for battle. Kuwabara's sheer guts. Ronni, who resisted the Serpent. I've learned some from each of them. But I have a few tricks of my own._ Hiei labored to draw another breath.

This would be a battle to remember: hero flat on his back, villain holding all the cards.

All but one. The weapon of last resort.

Physical strength was no matter. That weapon was weightless. Even with Hiei's right arm out of the picture, his left could wield it, if he could overcome gravity.

"I will torture you to death by inches, strip your soul away. Leave your body to the buzzards, like that longhorn."

Guarding his thoughts, Hiei dragged his left hand to lie at his side, palm-up.

With Tenchi no Hi-the Flame of Heaven and Earth-the effect was instantaneous and singular. One mighty blow for all. It could not be manipulated nor finessed. It did its job in a flash, but left him deaf, blind, and unconscious.

Its blast would also blind and deafen any human foolish enough to be caught close to its epicenter, though not kill them, as it would any youkai within the strike zone.

Any but Hiei. He alone could withstand the Holy Fire of that sword-ordinarily. In his weakened state, it could well kill him. But Soultaker would be gone, too.

Hiei found it difficult to draw breath, but he managed. "Now I'll give _you_ a chance. Go politely back to the foothills, wait for a coyote to step on you."

"Pathetic little creature. As if I would accept that!"

"Didn't think so."

"How is this for a counter-offer? I will liquefy your brains, make them pour from your ears."

Among youkai, rumor and legend abounds regarding Tenchi no Hi. It is said to have been forged by angels and capable of slaying a thousand demons at a stroke.

Not all of it true, and even Hiei himself is uncertain of its origin.

"The energy from your soul will speed me toward your loved ones-a gateway to the feast of the ages!"

Hiei was ready. Lone cowboy with a sword; no gun could create such a huge blast zone, a bubble of Holy Fire expanding at the speed of light, the sound deafening all in its radius.

But he needed an instant to operate it.

"Maggot! Do you think you could use such a weapon against me? When you can't even move a muscle?"

Too late. Soultaker had read his intent. It attacked, its gravity increasing until it bent Hiei's ribs to breaking. His fifth rib snapped, pierced a lung. Blood welled into his mouth.

And in that instant the sword was simply _There._ In Hiei's left hand, as if it knew of the injury to his sword-arm. Existing outside the boundaries of time and space, The Flame of Heaven and Earth, cool to the touch, fierce and ready.

Hiei did not have to see it to know its form: not of a katana, a Japanese sword, but rather a Western design, as one of the great swords of the Crusades, adamant-bright.

Marvel that it was, the sword would not wield itself. And Hiei was flat, pancaked, unable to move.

Showdown.

_I know you. Your kind._ "I'd let you go if I could."

"As if you could harm me. I hold all the cards."

"All but one."

"One card? You're pinned like a bug. You would have to tear yourself apart to use it."

Hiei coughed out a bloodied laugh.

The monster was disconcerted. "What's so funny?"

"You're right," Hiei gasped. "Don't know much. Can't do much. Just one thing."

"One thing? What-"

_"Win."_ On sheer willpower, Hiei wrenched his left arm free from Soultaker's grip, ripping flesh and sinew, cracking bone. Scorning pain, he slammed Tenchi no Hi into the ground.

The explosion seared him with Holy Fire, melted the katana at his back, burned his eyes, his ears, his nerves, until there was nothing left but all-consuming flame.

Then darkness.

(To be concluded: Bury me not on the lone prairie.)

-30-


	4. West 4: Home on the Range

Please read Disclaimer in Prelude/Chapter One.

Title: Once Upon A Time In The West (4: Home on the Range)

Author: JaganshiKenshin

Genre: Action/Adventure

Rating: PG-13/K+

Summary: Not out of the woods just yet... another obstacle remains.

A/N: Any character sketches can be viewed on my blogspot. This concludes the second tale in the Cowboy Story arc; please look forward to the third, _Sidekick._

As canon I use a combination of the American Yuu Yuu Hakusho manga and the Japanese subtitled anime version-and a few of the CD dramas. Thanks, and please review!

Once Upon A Time In The West (4: Home on the Range)

by

Kenshin

When sight and sound vanish, other senses become critical: the smell of ozone, the slip of glass.

"O bury me not on the lone prairie

Where the wild cayoots will howl o'er me..."

_What's a cayoot anyway?_

Hiei was alive. Blind, deaf, but alive. And-as a bonus- with most of his clothes still intact.

Unable to hear the sound of his own voice, Hiei laughed. Singing about burial seemed a bit premature.

No idea how long he'd been lying here unconscious. Maybe a half hour. Maybe a day. But a cowboy always gets his man.

He kept laughing. If he'd been a real cowboy, even a movie cowboy, he'd whistle for his mount (who often got separate billing), and Sparky The Wonder Horse would gallop to his rescue.

He was too parched to whistle.

Beneath him was a 30-foot pool of black glass, the melted sand from the blast radius of Tenchi no Hi. Hiei, dead center of this slippery 'puddle,' could be turning within it for hours.

Or he could leave the glass disc, and head blindly toward the foothills to be eaten by snakes, scorpions, and worse.

He was not utterly blind. Playing against the black curtain of his sight was a cavalcade of fireworks: green Kamuro, blue Catherine Wheels, red Roman Candles, white Horsetails. This display would fade as true sight returned, but meanwhile, it was making him dizzy.

Drop him blindfolded in the middle of Tokyo and he could find his way home by smell, starting with the bakery aromas of the Silver Moon Cafe. Here, he'd likely stagger around until he obligingly walked into the jaws of El Chupacabra.

His Jagan was shot. It would have come in handy. Shayla Kidd could have run a Jeep out here and pick him up. But that was how the Flame of Heaven and Earth worked. Wrecked some things, helped others.

He found that amusing.

He began to sing again, choosing a different cowboy tune, one not quite so funereal.

He felt all right. His spine, scorched by the melting katana during the blast, was likewise soothed. His right arm, struck by Jockey Stomper, was slowly returning to painful, tingling life. His ribs felt sore, nothing worse.

His left arm he had most certainly broken, if not ripped entirely from its socket when he had twisted and wrenched it free of Soultaker's grip.

But it was no longer broken.

It ached with a dull, insistent pain, but was still attached to him. That was the Holy Fire at work, healing him. Hadn't looked for it, hadn't expected it. But all to the good.

Taking a deep breath, he rolled onto his side, then gingerly onto hands and knees. "Come get me, you goat-sucking bastard!"

El Chupacrabra declined his invitation. Still on hands and knees, Hiei inched across the glass surface. To rise meant risking a broken neck, for the melted sand beneath him really was like glass. Greased glass at that.

Eventually he felt the leading edge of the glass circle. Then the prickle of sand under his left palm as that hand eased out of the blast zone and onto dirt.

But facing where? East? West? The Lazy-S spread was due south of the Mingus foothills.

Funny if he ended up lost in the foothills. Or crawling all the way back to California.

Still kind of punchy. Green Spiderwebs bloomed against a black backdrop. He resumed singing.

"Home, home on the range

Where the deer and the Soultakers play..."

Still weak and dizzy, he got to his knees.

Then-something warm and alive thrust into his right palm.

Instantly, Hiei rolled, reached for the katana at his back-then slipped and fell.

_What am I thinking? Katana melted. Fists then._

"Who's out there?" Swinging blindly, he missed the target. Took another swing-but stopped himself just in time.

The scent told him what the intruder was. Not human, but maybe not an enemy.

Maybe.

"So," he said, still unable to hear his own voice. "You didn't become Soultaker's last meal after all."

In answer, a soft yet bristled muzzle pushed at the side of Hiei's face. It was the horse all right. Jockey Stomper.

Its proximity made Hiei apprehensive, but when it pushed its muzzle against him for good, he held on to the horse's head for support and got up. It didn't try to kill him. Good sign.

On his feet again, mindful of the slippery surface, Hiei felt for Jockey Stomper's headgear. Reins trailed off the metal mouthpiece. Remembering what Ronni had said about a horse tangling up in the reins, Hiei gathered them. He patted the side of the horse's head. Jockey Stomper made no attempt to bite him.

"Good horse." Maybe it was lonely out here too. Maybe the sound of Hiei's voice had called it to him. He kept talking.

"What do you know. I think my ride's here after all." The horse's back seemed impossibly high, but Hiei's fingers found the saddle, then the pommel. He felt for the stirrup, vaulted into the saddle, and a spangling of orange Pinwheels accompanied him. For a few dizzy moments he thought he would slide off again. The horse seemed big around as a barrel, but the deep Western saddle felt reasonably secure. Hiei held the reins low and clicked his tongue. The horse began to walk, its muscles flexing.

_Yippie ki yay, or something._ Hiei gripped the horse's flanks with his knees. "Take us home, fella." Jockey Stomper did not try to buck.

"Jockey Stomper. The names people come up with. If I had a horse I'd call it Lake Placid. Or something dignified like-"

What was he thinking? "I can't stand horses. You know that, don't you?"

_Afraid of them, more like. Don't want to admit it. No use for them. What good's a horse anyway? _

_No. Can't be afraid. Horse can smell fear._

Had to admit-he welcomed its company. And it probably welcomed his. Though Hiei was starved and parched and disgruntled, there was nothing to do but resume the classic cowboy tune, making up lyrics about El Chupacabra and rattlesnakes when he ran out of the real ones. The rhythm of the horse's steps, felt rather than heard, provided percussion for his singing.

He understood now why cowboys needed their horses. A horse was more than just a car. A car would go only where you pointed it. A horse had its own sensory array, its own intelligence.

"We got something in common," he told Jockey Stomper. "You didn't want to be a race horse. Can't blame you. I don't always like my job either."

The wind smelled of sand and grass, cool on Hiei's skin, but then his skin was always hot coming off the attack; it would appear sunburnt.

A single green Catherine Wheel spiraled across his vision. The display was already tapering off.

Hiei tried to count the minutes by the rocking of the saddle and the stanzas of the song.

His eyesight was returning. He could see shadows. Didn't particularly want to think of shadows.

"Home, home on the range

Where the bees and the scorpions play..."

Muffled sounds returned, as though he had cotton stuffed in his ears. The muted crunch of hooves on sand. The creak of saddle leather. His own voice, singing.

Maybe Hiei really was no different from Gouki or Soultaker, but he longed to guzzle a six-pack of beer and lie down for a week, in that order.

"Where seldom is heard

An encouraging word

And the skies rain down thunder all day."

Now the breeze carried something more appetizing than grass and sand: the tang of woodsmoke mixed with spice-rubbed brisket. They had reached the outskirts of the ranch, enemy defeated, food and drink close at hand.

The horse stopped. Hiei dismounted, then led him on. As they advanced, the enticing scents intensified. Smeary shadows indicated large lumpish shapes that were probably buildings. Hiei's ears began to ring.

When Jockey Stomper halted again, Hiei groped forward until his searching fingers touched the wooden rails of the paddock fence. Even mostly blind he could secure the horse by feel.

Through the ringing in his ears, he could now hear and recognize voices. Off to his left, two blurry shadows were closing in on him. One was his firebird. Sight or not, he'd know her anywhere.

But it was Red Cooper's reedy twang that Hiei heard first, distorted and wavery:

"What in tarnation happened to you?"

Even as Hiei considered his reply, Shayla Kidd's languid purr cut in: "Went out to find the horse. Remember?"

"Hiei was out in that freak storm?" said Cooper, aghast.

"Yup," she replied.

So. Shayla Kidd, Spellcaster extraordinaire, had convinced everyone that they had to take shelter from a storm, a mere outpouring of nature.

Cooper went on. "Looks like he got hit by lightnin'."

"Oh, don't worry," Shayla Kidd assured the ranch hand. "He gets hit by lightning all the time."

Hiei was tired of standing there being talked about, but even with impaired hearing, he caught the nuances in Shay-san's voice, the strain, the subsequent relief. Had she been able to 'view' his entire battle, thanks to the Jagan he thought was fried? And yet-in spite of her worries, she had held it together for everyone at the ranch.

That took a different kind of guts.

She moved in close to him, her hands cool in his. "Welcome back. I see you made a new friend."

"Him?" Hiei jerked his head in the horse's direction. "He followed me home."

"And by the way? 'Cayoot' means coyote. Thought you'd want to know."

"That _is_ a load off my mind." His mouth felt like he had been chewing sand. His eyeballs were coated with grit.

Worse, he had _paperwork._

"What now?" asked Shay-san.

On the patio, dim shapes resolved into people who looked like gray paper cutouts: Cecilia and Michael, Robert Spencer and Mary, Ronni Spencer. Laughing and having a good old time.

Any minute now, Ronni would catch sight of Jockey Stomper and squeal, "My horsie! You found him!" Hiei wasn't sure he could stand up to that.

Thirst harried him. Somewhere a case of beer had his name tattooed on it. The sponsor of the ad Hiei had shot in California sent the Lazy-S Ranch some beer. Rhinestone Beer. Where there's life, there's a free case. _Because it's so bad they have to give it away._

But even swampwater that someone waved a sheaf of hops at would taste good right about now. _Drink first, then eat. Then talk someone else into doing paperwork._

Though he was no flower garden now in the smells department, Hiei could sense the horse beside him, reeking of horse sweat and who knew what else.

Vividly imagining that first cold burst of Rhinestone down his gullet, Hiei opened his mouth, about to say, 'I need a drink.'

What came out instead was, "Never mind me. Look after my mount."

-30-

(A/N: At the time that Hiei rode Jockey Stomper, he could not have guessed that there is an actual race horse named Lake Placid, a steeplechaser sometimes running at the Parx track in Pennsylvania.

This concludes _Once Upon A Time In The West._ Thanks for sticking with it!

Please scroll down for a preview of the final tale in the cowboy trilogy, _Sidekick,_ and celebrate the return of Kurama, from whose viewpoint this is told:)

Sidekick

by

Kenshin

Being in an enclosed space with Hiei is an exercise in developing one's patience. When the enclosed space is the size of a broom closet and there isn't enough ambient light to think- "Could you move a little to the right?"

Hiei obliged. "Know what your problem is?"

I said nothing. I did, however, grit my teeth.

"You just don't know your place."

"WHAT?" I couldn't stop myself.

"Gotta be the smartest man in the room-the leader-the top dog."

Around us was a faint rumble of movement. "I do _not_."

"But here," Hiei informed me, "I'm the cowboy, you're the sidekick."

"Cowboy. Really."

"I've ridden a horse." Hiei sounded like a cat who swallowed the canary.

"You're afraid of horses."

"Not any more. Have you ever so much as seen a horse?"

"Yes. I'm sure of it."

"On television."

"No, a real one."

"Where, at the races? Trailing behind Shay-san?"

"Well..." Ever since Hiei had returned from his latest trip to America, he had been insufferable. I don't particularly care for this role-reversal. I prefer Hiei grumpy and easily provoked, not the other way round.

"I rode a race horse," he added.

"You did not."

"I did. Jockey Stomper. That should summarize it for you."

"When did you do this?"

"Just before we got home."

"Did you win?"

"In spades."

"You never mentioned."

"You're not my nursemaid. No, I'm the cowboy, you're the sidekick. And as my sidekick, you need a sidekick name."

I shut my eyes. "This should be fun."

"Think I'll call you Gizmo."

"Gizmo."

"On account of all the junk you keep in your hair."

"Not this again. Do I ride you about your sword?"

"Seriously, do you ever wash it?"

"Your sword?"

"Or do you just re-load every time you take a shower?"

"Of what possible interest is the state of my hair?"

"Getting kind of stuffy in here."

But the atmosphere was not stuffy. It was, paradoxically, icy, which set my teeth on edge. "Save it for the opposition."

"Just passing the time. We're getting too well-known for this line of work any more."

The elevator dinged. The doors slid open. With a growing sense of apprehension, I stepped out into more cold and further darkness, Hiei at my heels.

(to be continued-soon)

-30-


End file.
